My secret baby with the moviestar
Blood.
The scene rushes back like a tidal wave: Levi, his face a mask of panic and determination, carrying me to the police car amid the chaos. His voice, steady yet filled with urgency, kept repeating that everything would be okay. But fatigue had settled in, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket, and I remember drifting in and out of consciousness, caught in a haze between fear and the allure of sleep.
As I survey the room, my eyes land on Levi, sitting in a chair beside my bed. He looks utterly spent, his eyes red and puffy from crying, shadows beneath them telling tales of sleepless nights and anxiety. “Levi?” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
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